


Ignite

by outlineincolor456



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Scott McCall is not a good friend, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinksi is a good thing, derek hale deserves good things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29487045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlineincolor456/pseuds/outlineincolor456
Summary: When Scott finds out about Donovan, things go a bit differently, leading Stiles to flee Beacon Hills. In a plea for help, he calls the one person that knows what it's like trying to escape the traumatic place that is Beacon Hills; Derek Hale.___It was pouring rain. Like in every cliche overly dramatically emotional scene, it was raining. His shirt was starting to get soaked despite his sweatshirt, which was already plastered to his frame, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and his jeans were starting to become uncomfortably wet and rapidly entering the chaffing territory. None of that mattered.“Scott, say you believe me.”Stiles felt his heart break as Scott stared at him like he was a cold-blooded murderer. He waited for a heartbeat. Then another. Forty-five agonizingly slow heartbeats later and he knew. Scott wouldn’t ever believe him.“Fine. You know what, fine.” Stiles shook his head, head tilted back a little.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 15
Kudos: 126





	Ignite

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first Sterek and first-ever Teen Wolf work, I do have other works, you're welcome to check them out but if there's any hate related to those works commented here I will choose to monitor comments! The comments at the end of each chapter are for THIS WORK ONLY! Please keep them friendly!
> 
> I apologize if Derek seems a bit out of character, I just like to think that he's very willing to help anyone he cares about escape from Beacon Hills after knowing how much trauma someone can experience just living there. This is a slow-ish burn fic, Stiles will realize he has more power and learn to use it.
> 
> Thoughts will be in italics in a paragraph, italics out of a paragraph are a text message. In future chapters, any words not in English will also be in italics but in quotaion marks and fitted with an asterisk.

It was pouring rain. Like in every cliche overly dramatically emotional scene, it was raining. His shirt was starting to get soaked despite his sweatshirt, which was already plastered to his frame, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and his jeans were starting to become uncomfortably wet and rapidly entering the chaffing territory. None of that mattered.

“Scott, say you believe me.” 

Stiles felt his heart break as Scott stared at him like he was a cold-blooded murderer. He waited for a heartbeat. Then another. Forty-five agonizingly slow heartbeats later and he knew. Scott wouldn’t ever believe him.

“Fine. You know what, fine.” Stiles shook his head, head tilted back a little. “You say you want to believe me, but you’re so up on your high horse. Don’t think I know exactly how this changes how you look at me. I’ve seen how you look at Derek and even Malia. As soon as you knew what blue eyes meant you quietly judged them, quietly been afraid of them. Now you’re afraid of me. I guess that makes sense, I mean I was the Nogitsune, Donovan isn’t the first blood on my hands.” He scoffed and looked at the wrench in his hand, it felt heavier than the iron it was made out of, it felt hot. Hot just like that piece of scaffolding that was covered in Donovan’s blood, still body temperature. Stiles looked up to see Scott not moving like one would do when encountering a wild predator. His hand flexed and shifted around the wrench and Scott flinched when he adjusted his grip.

“You just thought I was going to hit you.” Stiles didn’t even bother with a question, there was no question what Scott felt towards him now. “Good luck, Scott. Solve all your problems yourself.” 

“Stiles,” Scott called out, looking only half hurt. “I’m formally telling you, as my pack’s Alpha that you are no longer a part of it, and if you come near them you’ll be treated as a threat.”

“Fucking figures.” he snorted, shaking his head in disappointment. With that Stiles turned back to Roscoe and got in, wedging the wrench between the driver’s seat and the gearshift. Somehow his beloved Jeep just knew that he needed to leave right then and started up only after the second try.

It was a miracle that he got back to his home without crashing, between the rain and the tears welling up in his eyes his visibility was low enough to warrant pulling over, but if Stiles was going to have a mental breakdown he would do it in the comfort of his own home goddamn it.

There was no pause, it seemed like the world was moving around him and he was just appearing in places. That’s how Stiles found himself standing in his bedroom, holes in the drywall and the tops of his dressers cleared, the lightbulb in his lamp was broken and scattered across the floor. His knuckles were bleeding steadily and the scream that left his chest as he let loose and took out more and more of the drywall was loud enough he saw from the corner of his eye his neighbor’s lights turn on and a figure appear in the window. 

_ Great. Mrs. Illian is going to call the station. _ Stiles growled deep in his throat at the thought. Either Parrish or his dad would come, and right then he couldn’t deal with facing his dad, and Parrish didn’t deserve to deal with his anger.

Stiles wasn’t surprised when his cell rang in the pocket of his jeans, thankfully the pockets had stayed dry due to the extra thick layer of the bottom hem of his sweatshirt covering it. Slipping his half-numb rain and blood slick fingers into his pocket he didn’t bother checking the caller ID, he knew from Styx’s  _ Renegade _ playing that it was his dad calling. “Yeah, Dad?” He knew what he sounded like, emotionally raw, angry, his throat hoarse, there would be no denying anything.

“Julia Illian called into the station about a scream coming from our house. Are you in danger?”

“No, no I’m not in danger Dad. Just-” he felt his throat dry up and tongue thicken. “There’s something I have to tell you, in person. I won’t do it over the phone. And uh, well, Scott… I’m not allowed to be near the pack anymore.”

“Stiles? What happened?”

“I’m a threat now, according to Scott. I’ll explain everything when you get home, Dad, I promise.”

“Okay kiddo, my shift is almost up, I’ll be home soon.”

“Drive safe and text me before you leave.”

“Of course, I’ll see you in a little bit Mischief.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Stiles.” 

The line disconnected a few seconds later, leaving Stiles standing in the wreckage that was his room. Slowly he came out of the state he had been in, the world finally resuming its normal speed around him.

It didn’t take long for him to come to his decision. Ignoring the bloody swipes he was making on his screen he scrolled through his contacts, blocking Scott’s number while he was in there, and stopping at one he hadn’t used in a while.

_ I need to leave Beacon Hills. _

The message was short and sweet, to the point. Now all he had to do was wait for a reply.

**_If you’re trying to get ahold of Derek you’re not going to be able to with a cell phone Stiles, but luckily for you, I can pass along your message._ **

_ Peter? _

**_Yes, oh brilliant one, who else would have Derek’s phone number and reply to anyone in Beacon Hills?_ **

_ I momentarily forgot how much I don’t like you, thanks for the reminder Creepy Uncle. _

**_Ouchies, well if you’re playing like that maybe I won’t pass along your message._ **

Stiles let out a frustrated groan and put another hole in his wall before texting back the most infuriating Hale family member.

_ Fine. I’m sorry for calling you Creepy Uncle. You’re still creepy though. I mean you used both Lydia and Derek to bring yourself back to life, that’s like date rape-y creeping. _

**_Stiles that doesn’t help your case._ **

_ I apologized, didn’t I? _

**_You did. Poorly._ **

_ I’m bleeding Peter. I could care less about how you grade my apology. _

Stiles rolled his eyes and headed to the bathroom, starting to clean up his hands. Faintly he could hear his dad’s cruiser pull into the driveway, making him curse to himself as he hurried to clean up his knuckles at least enough that they were no longer actively bleeding.

“Stiles?”

“Up here, pops. Sorry about the mess, I’ll fix it.” He called down the stairs as he dabbed antibacterial gel on the splits on his hands before searching through the kit for gauze. The creaking of the wood let him know that his dad was heading upstairs while still on alert from being at work, something he had never truly left behind from his military days.

The light coming from the hallway was disrupted as the sheriff stood in the doorway to the bathroom. “Jesus Christ, Stiles, what happened?” Noah moved quickly to take over bandaging his son’s hands. “It looks like you decided to take up underground fighting.”

“If fighting my bedroom walls paid like underground fighting we’d be set daddio, don’t worry about that though, I’m gonna get the stuff to fix the walls tomorrow.”

“So tell me what happened, something with Scott?” Noah carefully tucked the ends of the strips of gauze into the tops of where it wrapped delicately around each finger and crossed down over the backs. As he started with the layer of tape to keep the dressings dry Stiles began to recount the events that brought forth the scene between Scott and himself earlier in the evening.

“It started with Donovan, actually. He uh-” Stiles sighed heavily and took his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. “He’s dead.”

Noah looked up from where he was paying attention to the tape. “And you know this how?”

“I was there. He uh-,” He could feel his throat become tighter. This would change so much. 

“Stiles. Son, look at me.” 

It took a minute before he could look at his dad and meet his eye, but he did.

“It’s completely off the record. I will do everything I can to protect you. You hear me? This stays here, whatever it is.”

“Donovan found me, I was at the school in the library. I fell asleep and Malia left, we were all so tired. I woke up and went to go home, I couldn’t get the Jeep to start though, so I was under the hood, trying to coax her to start, y’know.” Stiles saw the sheriff nod in acknowledgment. It was common to see Stiles under Roscoe’s hood, sweet-talking the old 1980 CJ5 into starting. “All of a sudden I feel someone behind me and I’m reaching for my wrench when they hit me. I managed to grab the wrench and not end up half in the Jeep and hit the guy, I had no idea it was Donovan.” He licked his lips and ran his now taped hand through his hair as Noah worked on taping the other. “I was just going to get away but he recovered too fast, his family were wendigos, but the Doctors had gotten to him. They spliced him with  _ something _ , I didn’t care to ask what. I had to hit him twice with the wrench before I ran, he was right behind me telling me he was going to make you suffer by killing me. I got to the library again and got in, I guess the door hadn’t shut all the way yet and wasn’t locked so he got in behind me. I hit him with my wrench again, we took down a couple of shelves in the library and I lost it, I got away but I didn’t really have anywhere to go. I remembered the scaffolding and started climbing up it, there’s only a pin at the top holding it up on each side. I pulled the pin to one of the pieces when he grabbed my leg. The scaffolding fell and hit him on the way down, a bar impaled him.”

Stiles took a moment and looked at his dad, who was nodding while packing away the supplies. “He was still breathing when I got down, but I- I hesitated. He had a piece of metal sticking through his diaphragm and I wasn’t going to help him. I was so scared and angry, he wanted to hurt you by killing me. But I felt guilty too, so I grabbed the bar but then I saw he was bleeding mercury too. I knew he wasn’t going to make it. I used the library phone to call 911, I didn’t say anything, just waited for the dispatcher to send someone out. I knew what it would look like so I stayed out of sight but by the time they got there the Doctors had gotten Donovan’s body.”

“And Scott found out.” Noah sighed and scrubbed at his face, scratching the stubble on his jaw.

“Scott found out and confronted me about it tonight. I don’t… Theo was there that night with Donovan, I didn’t see him, but he saw me. He told me about it after he saved me, Josh Diaz was going to try and kill me when I was having a flashback, hallucination, whatever it was from the book. Theo ripped his throat out, literally, and when I asked him why I shouldn’t tell Scott he said  _ ‘because I didn’t say anything about Donovan’ _ . I- I should’ve told Scott about everything then.” He slumped against the sink, fingers tugging at his hair. “I don’t even know if Scott knows the whole story, but it doesn’t matter to him. It never does. I think the only reason he isn’t terrified of Malia is because the reason her eyes turned blue is due to a car accident. You should have seen how Scott looked at Derek when he found out what blue eyes meant on a were. He looked at him like he was the scum of the earth without even knowing how or why it happened.”

Stiles gripped the sink tightly, anger settling into his shoulders and making them shake. A gentle hand was placed with the heel of the palm between his shoulders and thumb resting on the vertebrae at the base of his neck. It was an old trick that his dad used after the death of his mother. “It wasn’t Derek’s fault. Paige’s body was rejecting the bite from a rogue alpha. He tried taking her to the Nemeton, it’s supposed to help make the change easier on humans, but...she wasn’t going to make it and dying like that, it’s slow, it’s painful. She asked him to.”

“It wasn’t your fault either kiddo, I mean it would be a hard press to even get involuntary manslaughter. It was self-defense that lead to accidental death. Stiles, Donovan’s death is not your fault.” Noah said softly as he pulled his son to look at him.

“Scott doesn’t think so.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Scott has a horse so high it’s fed pot and on stilts. He has such a black and white view of the world and it’s going to cause him a lot of problems down the line if he doesn’t grow up. So Scott can go fuck himself.”

Stiles snorted and couldn’t help the small bout of laughter that left his chest. His phone started ringing, Duran Duran’s  _ Hungry Like The Wolf _ playing from his pocket, bringing him back to the reality of the situation. “It doesn’t change the fact that I’m a threat to the pack according to Scott, and I’m a threat living in the pack’s territory. It’s not a good idea for me to stick around. I’m going to talk to Derek, make some arrangements with the school and graduate early.”

“You’re leaving.”

Stiles could hear the underlying pain in his dad’s voice and the sad sigh when he nodded. “Not a lot of choice in it, but it just means I’m leaving a little earlier than originally planned.”

“You weren’t supposed to go until summer.”

“I know. I’ll be here for a little while, I haven’t actually talked to Derek yet. Peter has his phone and is being Peter about getting the message to Derek.” His phone chimed to let him know that there was a new voicemail. He’d check it after they were finished.

“Isn’t Derek a big black wolf most of the time these days?”

“From what I hear he scares the cartels enough, he’s become somewhat of an urban legend. But I’m going to do some work around here, some protective stuff I’ve learned from borrowing books from Deaton.”

“I’m sure Scott’s boss would appreciate you not pilfering his supplies all the time.”

“Deaton is cryptic to the point of being obnoxious and unhelpful, someone had to fill in the gaps left behind. Besides, the McCall pack will have to deal without their research monkey from now on. I’m going to supernatural-proof this house, warding, and barriers, shit like that. No worries about unwanted bump-in-the-dark creatures.” Stiles shrugged and scuffed his shoe, still half damp and standing in his soaked clothing. “I’m not against them having help from law enforcement, but that help stops at the door. I don’t want to leave without having a contingency plan for you.”

“Stiles, I’m a full-grown man, that served in the army and managed to handle being sheriff to this whacked-out county for over a decade without knowing about any of this supernatural crap.”

“Dad, you don’t need any more stress, especially not about some supernatural asshole getting into the house uninvited.” He pushed before standing up straighter. “Please. Don’t fight me on this one.”

The sheriff nodded with a sigh. “Alright, you’re right. Now go clean your room. I’m going to go order us something to eat.”

“I’m letting burgers and curly fries slide tonight only!” Stiles called after his dad and headed to his room, plugging in headphones for hands-free talking, and listened to the voicemail that came from Derek’s number.

_ “Stiles, Peter said you stopped texting back twenty minutes ago after saying you were bleeding. He said something about you needing to leave Beacon Hills. Call me back in an hour or I’m getting on a plane to come and get you.” _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! I have chapter two already written and I'll post it after I finish chapter three, this is how I run all my updates for the most part. I don't commit to a schedule because I have a very hard time keeping them unless it involves medication.
> 
> Please let me know if the format I've used for the text messages; Stiles being in italics and the recipient being in bolded italics, should be changed for accessibility. If there is any content I haven't tagged that you feel should be please drop a comment and let me know what the content is and what tag you feel is most appropriate. 
> 
> Next chapter is Stiles' talk with Derek.


End file.
